


home

by Lulannie



Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulannie/pseuds/Lulannie
Summary: Funnily enough, living in a big, ancient, draughty mansion with five other teenagers isn't all that glamorous.-a series of small things





	1. Chapter 1

Nico shuffles across the landing, her too-long thrift-store pants occasionally catching on the uneven floorboards. There's a chill wafting through the mansion, and it settles in her wet hair, brushing against the unprotected space between her shoulder blades. Sure, being small is helpful when the time comes to duck from a rogue CCTV camera, or crawl under a chainlink fence, but it makes it very difficult to stay warm in a giant draughty building where a "hot shower" is a sputter of lukewarm water from a rusty showerhead made in the early crustacean period, at best. That is to say: Nico is quietly grateful to see Karolina already warming the bed, having made and tucked the extra-thick duvet. She's propped up against the headboard, one of Gert's mildewy hardbacks in her hands. She sees the other girl in the doorway and shoots her a smile.

Nico towels her hair (in vain) one last time, then folds the fraying fabric over the back of a heavy chair. She scoots into the bed beside Karolina, who lets the book fall into her lap and leans her face toward Nico's. Nico grimaces, and Karolina frowns.

"Is something wrong?"

Nico looks down, admitting, "Molly used the last of the toothpaste."

Karolina laughs softly and kisses her anyway, pulling away with a thoughtful expression.

"It's not bad, just... kind of tastes like dumpster bagels."

Nico laughs through her nose and hits Karolina lightly on the arm. She pulls her side of the duvet up to her chin, resting her head on Karolina's shoulder as the book is retrieved. They share a look and an apologetic smile as Nico's wet hair tickles Karolina's neck, but neither care enough to mention it. Nico is too wrapped up in the simple joy of doing something as normal as reading a book, watching the words flicker as the ancient desk lamp beside them hums in the quiet room--

then putters out.

The room is black in an instant, and loud complaints echo from other parts of the mansion as the whole place powers down. A sleepy voice yells for Chase to go fix it, and a sleepier one retorts with an expletive and a plea for 'tomorrow'. Nico sighs, closing her eyes in defeat.

She hears the soft ringing before she sees the light from behind her eyelids. Karolina's glowing hand is tracing the words on the page, revealing faint outlines of the furniture around them.

"Karolina, you don't have to..."

"Just to the end of the chapter."

And so they read. Or at least, Nico's eyes follow Karolina's hand as it brushes the paper. They close the book after a few pages and adjust the pillows to lie down properly. Nico's knees rest against Karolina's legs, and they lie there for a time. At some point, Karolina huffs and shuffles over, reaching her arm under Nico's head to hold them closer. Nico kisses Karolina chastely, smiling at her though she can't see it. Her feet are still cold, and her hair is soaking into the pillow, but she finds that she's stopped caring. She's safe, and she's home.


	2. Chapter 2

The girls are sat around the long dining table, Gert anxiously checking her watch again and again.

"They should be back by now."

Karolina reaches across the table for her hand, "I'm sure they're fine. Dumpster diving is always slower on weekdays."

Gert breathes in slowly through her nose, then laughs at herself, "What are we, housewives waiting quietly for the men to bring home the bacon? It's stupid and patriarchal and--"

"Honey, I'm home!" Chase's voice echoes from the foyer. He and Alex scurry into the dining room, carrying a pair of suspicious boxes, brimming with excitement.

Molly perks up.

"Dinner? Please tell me you got Zizi's takeout? I mean, I love Huang's, but I think all my clothes are starting to smell like noodles, and sweet and sour sauce makes Old Lace cranky, and..."

As Molly rambles, Alex swallows and pushes his glasses up nervously. Nico raises her eyebrows at the boys. Chase starts with, "Well, we _did_ have dinner, but then--" and glares develop from across the table. He explains that they had gathered a sizable bag of provisions when they'd stumbled upon the large boxes next to a community skip. When looking up from admiring the contents, they found their bag in the hands of a hooded individual, who was already a fair way down an unfamiliar alleyway. They decided to cut their losses and make their way back home before it got too dark.

The audience to their story might have been more amenable - understanding of their mistake, sympathetic toward another individual who was likely in a similar position to their own - if it weren't late evening on a day where their last meal was a breakfast of expired drugstore sandwiches.

Gert had that dangerous smile on her face, the one with the teeth and the too-wide eyes and eyebrows doing unspeakable things.

"Whatever you've got in there better be good."

Alex edges away, gesturing to Chase.

"It's all you."

Chase tries to keep up an air of cheerful bravado as he unboxes the items.

Karolina looks baffled.

"You traded dinner for... speakers."

Molly seems more impressed.

"Big, _fancy_ speakers."

Nico is less so.

"Awesome. Maybe we can use the sweet vibrations to convince our stomachs to stop eating themselves. This is great."

Gert just slumps in her chair.

Chase looks around, now a little morose.

"I just thought, you know, to make this place a little more like home, we could-- we could put on some music, and have some fun, and pretend like we're not all hiding from our homicidal parents and trying to stop the end of the world."

"It would actually only be the end of California."

"Really not the point."

The room shifts a little as they catch sight of the disappointment and guilt on Chase's face. Molly rounds the table, eyeing the big (if a little worse for wear) speakers.

"So we just need, like, a phone? Or an iPod, or something?"

Alex pulls a device from his back pocket and waves it, "Just plug it into a power outlet."

Molly's eyes ring with yellow and she hoists up a speaker in each arm, depositing them in the foyer and letting Alex configure the wires.

There's a light crackle in the background, but the sound is clear and fills the mansion with the voice of some 60's crooner. Molly and Chase leap into action, moving with varying levels of grace to the music. Alex nods his head subtly, not quite in time, but with a small smile. The girls, still in the dining room, watch through the doorway. Someone's stomach rumbles, but no-one mentions it, because their home is full of sound, and there's laughter, and maybe that's what they had been missing.

A carton of noodles would've been nice too, though.


	3. Chapter 3

Chase knows, objectively, that he is attractive.

His face is nicely proportioned: his eyes wide, deep brown, not too far apart or close together; his nose pointed but not beaky; his cheeks and jaw sharp. He'll not deny that the rest of him is pretty good too - he's lean and muscled, hardly genetically undersold. Aside from a strict exercise regimen, his looks don't even require all that much upkeep. He's good with a few protein shakes, decent shampoo, and an extortionately expensive but extremely effective anti-acne cream. Sadly, the Runaways' newly limited budget doesn't quite stretch far enough to cover all those bases.

That's fine for a while. They're as much as a few weeks into living in the Hostel before the diet of dumpster takeout and cheap supermarket reductions start taking their toll.

It starts on his forehead, the added summer sweat not improving anything. But it's fine. Chase just pushes his bangs forward, which isn't even much of a change from his usual product-free quiff. He resists the urge to push it back when he's frustrated, or when it gets in his eyes, or when he can feel the strands irritating the skin beneath. It's fine. It's worth it.

By their fourth week in the mansion, they've gotten a better hang of health-conscious scavenging. Sometimes they even have meals with vegetables that haven't been deep-fried, and leftover market stall fruit is a breakfast staple. But Chase's face has never really cared to accommodate. His cheeks flare up next, permanently red and rough, spots renewing themselves unfailingly despite thorough scrubbing in the sputtering sink.

Sometimes, Gert goes to cup his face for a kiss, but Chase doesn't want to subject her to that. He catches her hands on their way up, smiles at her, and tries to get her talking on a subject that will have her looking anywhere but at him. He's kissing up her neck one night when she tugs on his shirt to pull it off, but he's ashamed of the blotchy skin on his back and chest, so he shuffles a little and moves past it.

He feels ridiculous. He feels like he's twelve again, in math class, trying to exude an air of nonchalance, but really only resting his head in his hands to spread his fingers to cover his cheeks. He feels like his thirteen-year-old self, furtively applying his mom's too-pale concealer at her bedroom dresser.

And that's how Nico finds him, haphazardly brushing her powder over his face, squinting at the spiderwebbed mirror.

"That's just going to make it worse."

He whirls around, brush in hand, evolving quickly from startled to embarrassed to irritated.

"It can hardly get much worse."

She rolls her eyes at him, half-heartedly picking up her makeup bag. She squeezes the dregs of one tube onto the back of her hand, rubbing in some darker powder and passing Chase a small bottle. 

"This first, to protect your skin. Yeah, just rub it in. Not that much-- never mind, I guess. Then..."

She applies the new concoction to his face with another brush. She gestures for him to push back his bangs, and he recoils. She sighs, not unkindly, loading the brush and turning her back.

"You can do that yourself."

He dabs it on, eyeing the mirror. He almost looks like himself. In some lights, he can still see the mottled relief of his skin, and there are some dark patches - a little streaky on the forehead - but not bad. Not bad at all.

He turns to Nico, looking up at her from the chair.

"Thanks."

She pulls that half-smile half-grimace that tells him she's pleased but bashful. She tells him that Karolina makes a good homemade facial, with fruit and moisturiser and other cheap stuff, and that it might not be any fancy imported medicine, but it's soothing and it smells good.

He laughs, imagining the three of them reclining in bathrobes with cucumber slices over their eyes, snapping their fingers for some well-oiled hunk to bring them cocktails. That life was a reality once, but seems so far off now.

Alex calls from downstairs that dinner is ready ("Coming, mom!") and they descend for a hearty meal of discarded pastries and overcooked pizza ("Tomato sauce counts as a vegetable! Or is it a fruit?"). Nobody says anything about Chase's face. It occurs to him that none of them had really noticed to begin with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! let's hang out and play scrabble together


	4. Chapter 4

Gert is willing to compromise on many things. She and the others have been doing it for weeks. They eat the food that nobody else wants, wear the cheapest clothes from charity shops and clothing drives, take the odd jobs they would’ve once turned their noses up at. But there is one thing that Gert will not sacrifice, and it lines the whole drugstore shelf in front of her.

“Were these always this expensive?” Karolina ponders, turning a box of tampons round in her hands, examining the specifications.

Gert huffs, “You know they still tax this stuff?”

“That’s awful.”

“That’s institutional sexism, that’s what it is.”

“That too… How many of these do you think we’ll need?”

Gert’s never really thought about that. Before, she would just use what she needed and barely noticed when the toiletry bag in the bathroom was magically refilled. She looks between two boxes in her hands, comparing them.

“Well, there’s four of us-- let’s say six days each per month, and at least four of these per day…”

Karolina grimaces.

“So, a lot.”

“A lot.”

The pads are more expensive than the tampons, but Gert knows that neither herself or Molly are quite yet converted to the life of the tissue stick. Should she just get the cheaper ones and be done with it? Is that fair on Molly? Karolina catches her eye from a little way down the aisle, holding something up in question.

The sight of the menstrual cup makes Gert go a little queasy. She’s not there yet.

She shovels several boxes of the cheapest, heftiest tampons and pads into her basket, and collects Karolina from where she’s looking a little red-faced near the sexual hygiene section.

Once they’ve paid, they have a grand total of fourteen cents between them. They’re halfway down the street when Karolina turns to Gert abruptly.

“We forgot the ibuprofen.”

Gert swears softly, thinking of Molly at home, hunched over and hugging her middle. She fingers the coins in her pocket. Karolina must sense her anxiety, as she stands slightly closer and prompts for them to keep walking. She smiles at Gert.

“It’s fine. I’m going out with Alex later; I’ll pick some up then.”

“Right. Okay.”

At home, they find Molly and Alex in his den, the two of them playing some fighting game on one of Alex’s ancient consoles. Molly gives Gert a tired smile and says she’s been feeling a little better. Gert knows that she’s not being entirely truthful, but it’s still nice to hear.

Karolina leaves to deposit their spoils somewhere clean and damp-free, so Gert situates herself beside Molly, ostensibly watching them play, but rubbing circles on Molly’s back all the while. Karolina reappears with a smile and a hot water bottle, before losing spectacularly to Molly at a racing game. Eventually, Molly gives up her brave front and flops back to groan into a pillow.

Alex looks to Karolina.

“That’s our cue. See you guys later.”

Gert uses the new space to lie down next to her sister and gently pat the pillow over Molly’s face.

“Don’t suffocate yourself in there.”

“I can think of worse things. I’m _experiencing_ worse things!”

Gert laughs and says nothing. She closes her eyes.

With the plush cushions around them, the low roar of distant traffic, and Molly’s dramatic rambling, Gert can almost imagine she’s back in her old bedroom, listening to Dale and Stacey bicker good-naturedly downstairs, as she holds her baby sister who’s just gotten her first period.

“Hey, Gert?”

“Mmm?”

“...Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, I'm serious: let's play scrabble


	5. Chapter 5

There are certain unspoken rules that one adopts when sharing a living space with five other people and a genetically-engineered deinonychus. Like knocking before entering a room, announcing your presence loudly where there are missing doors, and hooking up the pink "occupied" sign that Molly made for the bathroom. Other topics, like how thin the walls of the hostel are, also remain unspoken, which wouldn't be a problem if the ceilings and floors weren't equally thin and if Alex's room wasn't directly below Nico and Karolina's. These things wouldn't be a problem if Alex, even in his early-morning bleariness, had remembered to hang up Molly's sign outside the bathroom before Karolina had burst in this morning. It wouldn't be a problem if Alex and Karolina hadn't both now seen and heard far more of each other than either could have anticipated yesterday.

It's early, and the two of them are now eating breakfast in silence. Not the comfortable silence that they're used to - the one that speaks of familiarity and trust and respect - but the slightly grating silence that stems from adolescent awkwardness and one flash too many.

After what feels like six years of creaky quiet, Nico shuffles into the dining room. She takes a swig of orange juice and greets them with a, "Hi."

"Hey," Karolina replies softly.

Alex just hunches further over his cereal (dry - the milk spoiled yesterday).

Nico frowns as if to ask, _what's his deal?_

Karolina gives a greatly exaggerated shrug, all wide-eyed and lanky and far too suspicious for Nico to even begin deciphering so early in the morning. The creaking downstairs seems to stir the precious sleepers upstairs, since Molly, Chase, Gert and Old Lace now file into the room, all in various states of consciousness. Old Lace deposits herself under the table, and promptly falls asleep.

"That's the dream," Molly laments as the rest of them take a seat.

The atmosphere is more relaxed with all of them in the room, even as Gert begins pointedly commenting on Molly's late-night vigilantism, and Alex and Chase start debating the best way to improve their security system. Once they've finished eating, Nico cuts through the conversation to announce that training is to begin in twenty minutes, eliciting several groans, and for everyone to meet in the foyer.

Alex and Karolina, the only two who are dressed and not dinosaurs, offer to clean breakfast away and are met with little resistance.

Alex washes and Karolina dries, and they're silent again. It's Alex who eventually breaks the lull.

"You know," he starts, "I don't want to make you feel awkward around me because of Nico - you and Nico. Because of everything before."

She smiles at him, that wide, bright-eyed, sincere thing that always makes him understand exactly why Nico chose this girl.

"I know that, and I don't. I don't feel awkward. Not for that reason, anyway. And, all of us, we only have each other now, so getting along is pretty much compulsory."

"You and Nico are definitely getting along."

Karolina looks scandalised at that.

"Alex, if you don't want to hear it, we have so many other spare rooms you could move into."

"Hardly any have power outlets!"

"God, the youth of today."

He laughs at that, which only makes Karolina's smile wider. The stiffness starts to seep out of the room.

"I liked your hair," she says, "when it was back like that. Not that it's not nice now, but what happened there?"

Alex looks bashful, pushing up his glasses out of habit and getting soap suds on the bridge.

"That was Livvie. I didn't really know how to take care of it like that, and I didn't know when I was going to see her next..."

"Livvie," Karolina ponders, "you like her."

"Well, she's just--"

Karolina gives him a pointed look. She's not fooled.

"Yes. Yeah, I like her," he admits.

Karolina goes to continue her line of questioning further when there's a creaking from upstairs.

"Which room is that?" she asks.

Alex looks up at the ceiling, following an invisible line up the stairs and across the landing with his finger.

"That's... Chase and Gert."

"Oh. They're probably just getting ready, right?"

They hear Chase make a sound neither of them have ever heard before, nor want to hear again. They hastily clear away the rest of the dishes and stride out of the kitchen, announcing firmly up the stairs that training has been brought forward to begin right now.

Neither are particularly surprised when certain members of the group come down looking a little ruffled, but they don't care to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I like this one so much - it may be revised!


	6. Chapter 6

They're sprawled across Alex's den, unmoving even as the credits start to roll on the campy sci-fi DVD they found for 10 cents at a thrift store. Karolina snores lightly, her head in Nico's lap and her legs thrown over the arm of the sofa. Gert and Chase are sleepily squished together on an old leather chair, while Molly and Alex smile wryly at the couples from their bean bags on the floor.

Molly absently thumbs at the battered DVD case, watching the names of the actors scroll slowly up the screen. She notes that the actors who play the mother and father (of the family fighting back against the cyborg invasion) have the same last name, and she smiles.

The movie rewinds to the menu screen. Alex reaches his foot to press the eject button, stretches, seems to consider moving, then sinks back into his beanbag, even further than before.

Molly shifts. She looks around the room.

"Guys?"

Nico hums in acknowledgement.

Molly says, after a moment, "Are we a family? Like, I know that we sometimes yell at our parents that we are, or like, say so when one of us does something stupid, but..."

The room is quiet for a moment. Chase breathes in slowly through his nose and shoots Molly a lazy smile.

"Sure we are. We even have a pet."

Gert half-heartedly swings her foot at his leg.

"Don't talk about Old Lace like that."

"I was talking about Alex."

A pillow is thrown, but it just skims Chase's hair. Nico huffs a laugh and adjusts herself as well as she can without disturbing Karolina. She studies Alex, and he looks back with a challenge.

"Alex is more like... the angsty older brother."

Molly laughs, "So, who's the dad?"

Alex feigns offence, grumbling, "Who says I'm not the dad? Actually, I've had enough of looking after you guys. Chase, you're dad."

Chase fist pumps, narrowly missing Gert's face.

"Seems a little heteronormative," Nico chimes in, making Gert's face light up, "Yeah, I listen."

Molly leans back into the base of the sofa.

"So, Nico's dad?"

"Does that make Karolina mom?" Alex asks.

"So I'm relegated to uncle status?" Chase complains.

Molly tries to cheer him up, "You'd be a cool uncle! You'd take the kids to football games and stuff."

"Lacrosse games."

"No kid wants to watch lacrosse, Chase."

"Hang on," Gert starts, "if this works how I think it does, I'm not sure I'm comfortable being both Molly's aunt _and_ sister."

"The Tudors did it."

"The Tudors ate their babies, Alex."

"Molly, that's sharks."

"Man, I miss school," Molly groans.

They run themselves in circles for another half-hour, growing less and less coherent as the night closes in. At one point Karolina blinks awake, insisting that no, Old Lace is definitely the mom. Most of them drift off where they sit, Nico and Karolina tangled on the sofa, Gert and Chase leaning together on the chair, and Alex spread-eagled on the floor, his glasses deposited safely next to the television. Molly can even hear Old Lace snoring in the foyer.

She looks around the room one last time, her eyelids heavy. They're not perfect, six teenagers and a dinosaur, but they'll do just fine.


End file.
